Nero 30

By Pueros

Chapter XXX - Olympus

(Imperial palace, Rome, dies Martis A.D. VIII Kal. Iul. DCCCII A.V.C., in the 8th year of the reign of the Emperor Claudius [Tuesday, 24th June, AD 49])

‘Homines dum docent discunt.’

(‘Men learn while they teach.’)

- Seneca the Younger

“The Greeks believe,” Britannicus announced with confidence, “that Mount Olympus in Macedonia, the highest peak in Hellas, is the abode of the gods, who are therefore often called ‘Olympians’. The houses of the deities on the sacred mountain were built, with his usual skill, by Hephaestus, divinity of fire and known to us Romans as Vulcanus.”

The young prince’s new main tutors had been gently questioning the delightful boy on a wide range of subjects in order to be able to judge the extent of his learning and intelligence. Palaemon and Cornutus had quickly come to the conclusion that the youngster’s previous teachers, despite, amongst other alleged perfidies, supposed incompetence, had developed their naturally clever charge very well. The 8 year-old had not only already acquired and retained an impressive range of capabilities and knowledge, which he could respectively perform and relate with erudite confidence, but also displayed a charming nature to match his lovely appearance.

Palaemon and Cornutus recognised that the current advanced qualities exhibited by an 8 year-old were a testament to the worthiness of their unfortunate predecessors. Both tutors were also perceptive enough to appreciate that these praiseworthy attributes of Britannicus should perhaps have been expected, given the reputation, wrongly derided as mere propaganda in some patrician quarters, of the boy’s father for creditable scholarship.

“On Olympus,” Britannicus continued, “the gods meet for their feastings and to take counsel, as they look down on the affairs of mankind.” The enchanting boy then enquired of his two new main tutors, with that wonderful smile which disarmed everyone who saw it, “Do you think they’ll be listening now to our conversation?”

(Ostia, the previous day)

‘Nemo ante mortem beatus.’

(‘Nobody should be called happy before his death.’)

- Ovid (‘Metamorphoses’)

It was Gaius who had noticed the chained young nude jump overboard from the boat that was berthed adjacent to the one onto which Lucanus, Quintilianus and Persius were embarking for their voyage to Hispania. My lover had already recognised the trireme as the same galley from which he had rescued me over five months previously. The wondrous 19 year-old’s eyes had originally been drawn towards the ship by the familiarity of the vessel, which was named ‘Olympus’, rather perversely given that below decks was hell not heaven.

The others in his company had heard a loud splash but had not seen anyone fall into the deep waters of Ostia harbour, and so they were at first rather surprised and perplexed when Gaius quickly began to shed his expensive and voluminous toga virilis. However, the beautiful 19 year-old from Volsinii rapidly appraised them of his motive for speedily stripping in public by shouting “Man overboard!” He then disappeared from view, apparently unashamedly bare, by bravely diving into the cool waves, in a gap between the two adjacent ships. Meanwhile, the crew of the trireme was still too captivated by the sight of unclothed young slave women and girls on the quayside to have noticed my lover’s resolute action.

Gaius was an excellent swimmer, having spent many happy hours as a boy frolicking naked with friends in the huge lake on whose shores his hometown of Volsinii is situated. However, the sudden chill and murkiness of the harbour waters initially disturbed and disorientated his splendid body and mind, until his form managed to become accustomed to his new cold and gloomy environment. Nevertheless, despite the latter development, he told me later that it must have been the divine intervention of the gods on Olympus that enabled him quickly to locate the drowning young slave. My lover was, of course, jesting because he does not believe that such a pantheon of deities exists.

Unfortunately, Gaius’ early miraculous success, in rapidly finding the now semi-conscious young slave, initially seemed in vain because the 19 year-old encountered great difficulty in trying to raise the drowning 18 year-old from the harbour bottom because of the slave's lack of co-operation and weight, increased substantially by his chains. Fortunately, this problem was then speedily overcome when another gorgeous naked form came alongside, in the undressed gelded shape of Axenius.

The two 19 year-olds managed to bring the now completely unconscious 18 year-old to the surface, albeit with difficulty because of the heaviness. As Palaemon, Hylas, Helius, Lucanus, Quintilianus and Persius then helped to pull the insensible young man onto the quayside, it became evident from the emaciated state of the diminutive slave that the weight encountered almost entirely emanated from the ballast formed by his metal shackles.

Palaemon now took over the rescue operation, using his own extensive knowledge to recall and direct a sailor’s technique to help clear someone’s lungs of water. As a result, the young slave, body now easily manoeuvred by many hands, was soon coughing harbour water onto the quayside, whilst his brown eyes opened to see human faces and sunlight once more. However, his initial reaction to his survival was not as his rescuers might have anticipated.

Servius, who had been recognised as a eunuch by all of his rescuers, began to sob and exclaim repeatedly “No, no, please gods, no! Please let me die!” As his mind cleared, the young slave also made a desperate attempt to scramble back into the sea from the quayside. However, the 18 year-old’s frantic action was thwarted by Palaemon and his young retinue, apart from the two who were now rapidly trying to redress, despite the glistening dampness of their bodies, in order to cover their suddenly embarrassing nudity.

Subsequently, Palaemon, having ensured that his many young companions had proficiently restrained the young naked eunuch, began to vandalise the abundant rich cloth of his own toga, just as he had once perpetrated for Axenius in front of Cybele's temple in Rome. The renowned teacher used a knife, habitually carried by his newly nominated heir for mutual protection, to cut off a substantial portion of his garment to afford the still sobbing and pleading gelded captive some cover. The famous tutor also tried to calm the 18 year-old by gently admonishing him. “Now don't be so silly,” he instructed “as we’ve no intention of letting you commit suicide. You also shouldn't want such a fate!”

“But I can't live as a galley slave anymore,” Servius cried whilst, body very weak through his earlier ordeals both on the trireme and in the harbour waters, he struggled fruitlessly against the many young hands that now held him tightly. The 18 year-old’s movements then lessened when Palaemon suggested confidently “You won't have to! I assure you that you’re now safe and will never have to return to that evil vessel!”

“I think your promise will prove false!” another adult voice now suddenly, unexpectedly and sinisterly intervened. The face of Palaemon and his young companions then turned to see the captain, or ‘trirarchon’, of the ‘Olympus’ standing nearby.

(Olympia, Elis, Greece, same time)

‘Now the following is the idea which leads to the founding of cities and to the holding of common sanctuaries in high esteem. Men come together by cities and by tribes because they naturally tend to hold things in common and also because of their need for one another; and they meet at the sacred places that were common to them for the same reasons, holding festivals and general assemblies. For everything of this kind tends to friendship, beginning with eating at the same table, drinking libations together, and lodging under the same roof; and the greater number of visitors and the greater number of places they come from, the greater is the advantage of their coming together.’

- Strabo (419)

At this very moment in time, a handsome young Roman named Athenodoros arrived at a temple in Olympia. The 16 year-old’s family had settled in the north Peloponnese port city of Aigion, called ‘Aegeum’ in Latin and located on the southern shore of the gulf known in the latter language as the ‘Sinus Corinthiacus’. The youth had been afforded a Greek cognomen by his settler parents, who, whilst retaining certain customs of their own native land, had been keen to assimilate with the long-conquered local Hellenic population.

As Britannicus was correctly to tell Palaemon and Cornutus the next day, the Olympic Games take place far from Mount Olympus. However, as the paramount god lived on the latter Macedonian peak, he became known as ‘Zeus Olympios’ and consequently his most sacred shrine, which happens to be on the Peloponnese peninsula in the south of Greece, was named ‘Olympia’, after the great deity’s lofty home in distant northern Hellas.

I hope, reader, that you and my poor scribe, whose right hand has to labour much to write down my memories and knowledge, will now forgive me if I expend quite a bit of space on his papyrus to explain much about Olympia and similar places. I feel compelled to do so to provide you with the proper background to significant segments of my long life, as well as some of the people who played major roles in my time on this world.

Olympia, an inland community of Elis, a city-state in the northwest of the Peloponnese but to the southwest of Aigion, lies in a green, grassy, wooded, fertile valley, between gentle hills, with that of Cronos, named after Zeus’ father, immediately to the north. The generally pleasant natural environment is a result of regular rainfall throughout the year. This phenomenon, unusual for Greece, helps to prevent the two main local rivers, the Alpheios, which is the longest in southern Hellas, and its tributary, the Kladeios, from drying up. The former waterway is navigable and, accordingly, the setting, being only about ten Roman miles from the coast, with many alternative inland routes also converging there, is easily accessible from all parts of the known world.

Olympia was originally under the dominance of the neighbouring city-state of Pisa before the metropolis of Elis, over 20 Roman miles to the northwest, imposed suzerainty. By my era, a local grove had already been, for over a millennium, the most important site in the whole of Greece for the worship of Zeus. The first pan-Hellenic Games, in honour of this paramount god, were eventually formally instituted here exactly 882 years before I began to narrate my saga to my worthy scribe, and about 200 years before similar celebrations started elsewhere.

Thereafter, the Games were held on a quadrennial basis until the present day, and over the centuries they helped Elis to be regarded, with few exceptions, as inviolate as far as other more powerful Hellenic city-states were concerned. The status of the Olympics and the locality was undoubtedly helped further by the fact that the Eleans rarely sought to abuse such consideration by trying to rival the likes of Athens and Sparta, through becoming stronger and belligerent.

Elis instead remained comparatively weak, undeveloped and agrarian, with little urbanisation, particularly in the environs of Olympia, which, outside the dates when the local Games are held, remains a relatively small community, albeit one with many splendid edifices. The resulting political insignificance has enabled the Eleans to benefit from an acquired reputation for being a sacred, peaceful, neutral people, responsible for the honours due to the gods, and thereby be left relatively unmolested over the centuries by stronger city-states.

The Olympics are considered so important that the principal Greek calendar is based on the quadrennial gap between celebrations, termed an ‘Olympiad’. When past years are recalled, they are generally quoted as the first, second, third or fourth following a particular Olympiad. Additionally, the primary event, the adult stade race over 200 paces, originally to set the fire on the sacred altar of Zeus, is so paramount that the name of the winner is included in the dating formula. For example, when a young local cook won the sprint in the very first Games, the associated subsequent time period was thereafter called that of ‘the 1st Olympiad, when Koroibos of Elis won the stade’.

Besides the Olympics, which are the oldest and most prestigious of the Greek athletic festivals, there are hundreds of others in which sports play a key part. In fact, by my time, I calculate that roughly 150 cities sponsor approximately 300 Games, most of which offer prizes, either in cash or kind.

Some rewards and incentives can be of enormous worth. For example, one city in Asia Minor offered an Olympic champion 30,000 drachmas just to enter the local Games, at a time when the average annual salary for a Roman soldier is no more than one hundredth of that amount. However, perhaps more normal are the events such as that at Aphrodisias, a metropolis otherwise renowned for its sexual elixirs, where prizes range from 500 drachmas in the pentathlon to 3,000 in the more popular pankration, sports I shall describe more fully later.

Such prizes rank Aphrodisias as a common 3000-drachma Games. Some richer 6000-drachma celebrations occur but less frequently. However, besides the Olympics, there were, when I was young, only three other major pan-Hellenic Games. These formed a premier sporting ‘circuit’, or ‘periodos’, and all, like that at Olympia, offered no rewards apart from wreaths.

After the Olympics, where prizes comprise wreaths of olive, the next most important pan-Hellenic Games is the quadrennial Pythian, held at Delphi for Apollo, followed by two biennial events, the Nemean, also conducted in honour of Zeus, and the Isthmian at Corinth for Poseidon. Here, winners are honoured with wreaths respectively of laurel, celery and pine. A champion in all four of the periodos is called a ‘periodonikes’, the suffix of the latter word referring to Nike, goddess of victory.

Despite the lack of material reward for winning one of the periodos, their prestige is such that they always attract the top competitors. However, the lure of these Games to such contestants lies not only in the glory to be gained by victory in Olympia, Delphi, Nemea or Corinth but also the honour and connected largesse to be secured elsewhere, especially in their home cities, by emerging a champion.

The periodos is so organised that at least one great Games takes place annually. In an Olympic year, athletes could seek to participate in the Isthmian celebrations as well, whilst, in the three following years, they could compete respectively at the Nemean, at the Pythian and Isthmian and then again at the Nemean. All are managed locally, apart from the Pythian at Delphi, which is governed by a council of cities associated with the revered local Oracle of Apollo.

There are now so many Games in the Greek calendar that athletes, who invariably perform naked, can achieve remarkable numbers of victories. For example, during my lifetime, an Olympic long-distance champion, named Titus Flavius Metrobius, of Iasos in Asia Minor, scored 140 wins overall.

All Greek Games involve elements of worship, particularly of a fertility or funereal nature. Associated rites include prayers, processions, sacrifices and feasts, all connected to relevant gods and deceased heroes. The latter concept is illustrated by the first athletic competitions that I can find mentioned anywhere in literature. These are the funeral contests provided for Patroclos, lover of Achilles, described in book 23 of Homer’s epic poem, ‘The Iliad’.

Not all Games restrict themselves to sports. As I shall relate in greater detail later in my saga, because the eponymous main subject of my autobiography took part in many, other activities commonly include choral music, dancing, drama and oratory. After the Roman conquest, the latter is now usually restricted to encomia of the Emperor or the chief god or gods of the hosts, although once the events were sometimes used by Greek city-states for the promotion of policy statements.

Olympia’s exclusive concentration on sports, at least in the official programme, is perhaps indicative of the unique standing of the Olympics. There are several Greek myths about how these original Games were started. The most common concerns the story of the local hero Pelops, after whom the peninsula of the Peloponnese, ‘Peloponnisos’ or ‘Pelops’ Isle’ in Greek, is named.

Pelops’ story is displayed prominently on the east pedimental sculptures of the Temple of Zeus in Olympia. He was a prince from Lydia in Asia Minor who sought the hand of Hippodamia, the daughter of King Oinomaos of Pisa, who was a renowned charioteer.

Oinomaos had challenged all suitors for Hippodamia to a chariot race, under the guarantee that any man who defeated him could marry his daughter, whereas anyone who lost to the King would be decapitated, with the head of the defeated used as triumphal decoration for the monarch’s palace. However, Pelops produced a devious plan to emerge victorious. His subterfuge involved the secret replacement of the bronze linchpins of his regal opponent’s vehicle with others made of wax.

When Oinomaos was about to pass Pelops in the subsequent chariot race, the wax melted and the King was thrown to his death. The young victor married Hippodamia and instituted the Olympics at Olympia to celebrate his victory. However, a different version of the tale refers to the first Games as the funeral celebrations in memory of the deceased monarch.

Another myth about the origin of the Games comes from the 10th Olympian Ode of the Greek poet Pindar, who lived over five centuries before my time. He tells the story of how Heracles, on his fifth labour, had to clean the huge stables of King Augeas of Elis.

Heracles approached Augeas and promised to clean the stables for the price of one-tenth of the King’s vast herds of cattle. The monarch, doubtful as to whether the deed could actually be achieved, nevertheless agreed and the great hero went on to accomplish the feat by rerouting the Alpheios and Kladeios rivers to flow through the massive cowsheds.

Augeas did not fulfill his promise to pay the due reward, however, and, after Heracles had eventually finished all of his labours, he returned to Elis and waged war on the double-crossing King. The great hero eventually sacked the Elean capital and instituted the Olympic Games in triumphal honour of his father, Zeus. He then taught men how to wrestle and measured out the stadium, which, being the distance that he could run in one breath, represented the length of the footrace, or ‘stade’.

Hippias of Elis, who wrote about the same time as Pindar, says that the first Games lasted only one day and comprised only one event, the stade race of 200 paces. Now, of course, the Olympics last five days and involve many more competitions.

Hippias claimed that the advent of the Games was actually as a consequence of a peace treaty between the neighbouring warring Greek states of Elis and Pisa. The Eleans themselves suggest that their King Iphitos founded the Olympics after the Delphic Oracle had told him, by means of advice to plant an olive tree to grow the victors’ wreaths, to include the requirement for the athletic celebrations in the agreement.

Whilst the 200-pace sprint continues to be the premier event, Hippias said that the double stade race, or ‘diaulos’, was added in the 14th Olympics. The long distance run, or ‘dolichos’, was introduced in the next Games.

Three Olympics later, the pentathlon and wrestling arrived and in the 23rd boxing. Two Games after that, the four-horse chariot race was added.

The bareback horse-riding event and the pankration came later. Finally the run in armour was introduced in the 65th Olympiad and the two-horse chariot race in the 93rd.

The first day of the modern Olympics is now primarily devoted to processions, sacrifices and the taking of oaths. The chariot and horse races take place on the morning of the second, with the pentathlon in the afternoon, whilst the third is set aside for more rituals and the boys’ competitions. The fourth has the men’s running events, namely the stade, double-stade and the long distance run, as well as the adult wrestling, boxing and pankration, with the very last contest being the race in armour. The fifth includes more sacrifices, as well as a banquet and other celebrations for the winners.

The double-stade race, or ‘diaulos’, is obviously over 400 paces and involves a tight turn around one of the pair of stone pillars located at each end of the stadium, or ‘stadion’ in Greek. The much longer distance run, or ‘dolichos’, involves 24 stadia, or 4,800 paces, which, in other words, is over three Roman miles. In the final race in armour, athletes compete against each other wearing a helmet and greaves and carrying a shield.

The pentathlon involves athletes in the five events comprising stade race, long jump, javelin, discus and wrestling. In the jump, the competitors use hand-held weights, called ‘halteres’, to try to increase the distance they can leap from an initial stationary standing position.

The javelin and discus contests are assisted by flutists, who play appropriate music to help the athletes achieve their rhythm. The throwing of the former is assisted by use of a finger-thong, attached roughly half way down the length of the projectile to aid propulsion.

The two competitors who eventually perform best in the running, jumping and throwing events then face each other in a wrestling match to determine the ultimate winner of the pentathlon. As always in such fights, the victor is the one who knocks his opponent down to the ground three times or compels him to surrender.

Meanwhile, in the boxing competition, contestants bind their fists with leather straps and fight until one capitulates. The hard thongs often cause permanent damage, such as facial scars and cauliflower ears.

The penkration, named from ‘pankrates’, the Greek adjective for ‘all-powerful’, is a particularly violent event that combines wrestling and boxing and continues until one man gives up. Biting and gouging are not allowed but almost everything else is. One victory wreath was even awarded posthumously to an Arcadian named ‘Arrachion’. He was being throttled, whilst being held in a scissors grip, but nevertheless broke his opponent’s toe, inducing the other to surrender, but sadly not before the act of strangulation had reached a fatal conclusion.

The horse racing, which takes place not in the stadium but in the hippodrome, or ‘hippodromos’ in Greek, involves naked bareback riders covering one 600-pace lap of the arena. However, the chariot competitions at the same venue are considered much more prestigious events, with professional charioteers racing two or four horses, positioned side-by-side, for twelve circuits. Nevertheless, it is the owners of the chargers and two-wheeled vehicles who are considered the winners, not the drivers, and, accordingly, women can win these contests even though they cannot otherwise compete in the Games.

There are three events for boys at Olympia, all of which take place on the afternoon of the third day of the Games. These are the stade race of 200 paces, wrestling and boxing.

The Olympics follow ancient tradition by grouping junior competitors together without age segregation, defining a ‘boy’ as someone who has passed his eleventh birthday but not his eighteenth, when training for adult military service normally begins in Greek states. Few in the lower age range bother to enter, given not only the stakes against them when trying to compete with older, and usually bigger and stronger, contestants, many of whom are built more like men, but also the disgrace and derision frequently cast on unsuccessful participants.

In actual competition in Games, judges are usually at hand to encourage contestants to better effort or adherence of the rules. They are invariably assisted in their roles by being equipped with whips to inflict painful lashes onto the inevitably bare flesh of miscreant athletes.

Unattached females can watch Games but those who have entered wedlock cannot, on pain of death, because the male contestants compete naked. I personally cannot fully understand the customs relating to feminine spectators, given the fact that the men and boys participating do not display anything that married women will not have seen previously. Meanwhile, girls, yet to become involved in a marital union, should perhaps be protected from the sight, given that they should previously have led sheltered and innocent lives, which might have caused them earlier to be visually ignorant of masculine physique. I can only conclude that the ancient practice actually arises from husbands not wanting their wives to contrast the sexual attributes of their spouses with the perhaps more resplendent offerings displayed by athletes.

A separate local festival in honour of the goddess Hera is held for the feminine gender, organised by a 16-strong committee of Elean matrons. Unmarried girls, in three age divisions, run a foot race down the length the stadium, with the winners, to commemorate their victories, permitted the honour of dedicating images, and participating in sacrifices to, Zeus’ consort in the female deity’s own temple in Olympia.

Hera’s temple is the oldest in Olympia. However, it is believed that the building was originally dedicated to her divine husband, Zeus, until a better edifice was later constructed for him.

By the time of my narration, the Olympics have been held continuously for almost nine centuries, even taking place during the great wars between the Greeks and Persians. However, one Games of 470 years ago are not considered official because the Arcadians captured Olympia and changed some of the events. 186 years ago, the Roman general Sulla also had the temerity to move the 175th Olympiad to Rome, having earlier plundered the sacred sanctuary to finance his campaigns.

The actual dates for holding the Olympics are calculated according to a complex religious calendar so that the third day always coincides with either the second or third full moon after the summer solstice. This places the quadrennial Games in the Roman months of Iulis or Augustus.

In Greek, the month of the Olympics is called the ‘Hieromenia’ and, to allow athletes to come and compete in the Games in times of conflict in Hellas, a sacred truce, the ‘ekcheiria’, is declared. At first, this war intermission was only one month long but later it lengthened to two then three.

Messengers, called ‘spondorophoroi’, set off in the spring of an Olympic year to go everywhere in the Hellenic world, delivering news about the truce and confirming when the next Games will be held. During the period of the armistice, armies and armed individuals are barred from entering Olympia and everywhere no death penalties are supposed to be carried out. The traditions surrounding the ceasefire continue to be followed, even though Hellas is now subject to Roman rule and the associated long ‘Pax Romana’.

Athletes wishing to compete in the Olympics have to arrive one month early to train under the fullest supervision in the city of Elis, having sworn to Zeus that they had already practised earnestly for the previous ten months. During the time in the Elean capital, the ‘Hellanodikai’, which is a ten-member panel of judges with an impeccable incorruptible reputation, carefully observe would-be entrants, and ask them questions about their parentage, character, physical ability and previous achievements, in order to check eligibility and worthiness for participation.

The Hellanodikai can even demand, as a test of ability, that would-be competitors follow a practice regimen laid down by them, in complete disregard for the preferences of the athletes and their trainers. Protests are invariably totally unavailing, and could result in informal infliction of judges’ whips on both entrants and coaches, or even formal expulsion from the Olympics.

The Hellanodikai also occasionally insist upon holding trials, the results of which sometimes cause apparently less able participants to withdraw voluntarily, having discovered the capabilities of those they would be up against. However, there have been times when such happenings have gone too far and the results have been unchallenged walkovers in particular events. In fact, one wrestler boasted that his potential opponents disappeared as soon as they had seen him undress.

Thankfully, occurrences of walkovers and late absentees are increasingly rare for two reasons. First, withdrawal, after the month of practice is passed and the selection of athletes for individual events has been announced, is no longer permitted at the Olympics if miscreants do not want to be subjected to deeply shaming loud public accusations of cowardice. Second, by my era, the proliferation of minor Games, at which valuable prizes are awarded, has enabled professionalism to flourish. The top contestants already know each other’s usually similar worth and are generally eager to compete for the highest, ultimately very lucrative, honours, unless there is that scarcity, a truly omnipotent prospective opponent.

Professionalism has certainly resulted in much better competition. However, this is sometimes sadly offset, despite the best efforts of the judges, by cheating, which over time has become ever more devious, as Athenodoros was to discover.

Near the actual time of the Olympics, the arbiters select those whom they consider to be the best athletes from the selection available to contest the various events. One of the prime non-athletic qualifications for entry is a judgement by the ‘Hellanodikai’, literally ‘judges of the Greeks’, concerning the true Hellenism, as opposed to barbarism, of those wishing to compete. No-one, who is not considered a Hellene and an ‘Idaios’, or someone who worships the relevant gods, is allowed to participate.

Such qualification depends upon the ability to prove three qualities. First, that the athlete belongs to a tribe whose genealogy can be traced back to Hellen, forefather of all Greeks. Second, the language he speaks is Hellenistic. Third, his religion incorporates the pantheon of Olympus and devotion to all associated obligations and rites. It goes without saying that participants cannot be slaves or have criminal records.

Naturally, besides presiding over the actual identity of the chosen athletes themselves, judges have to mediate actual competitions. In all Hellenic Games, the arbiters stimulate the naked athletes into better performance or respect for rules by use of whips, as do coaches during training. However, the Greeks originally otherwise considered flogging, and other forms of corporal punishment, to be appropriate only for slaves until Roman ethics began to erode this belief. It is therefore perhaps astounding that, after fines and exclusion, formal flagellation has, from the earliest Olympics, been the third acceptable punishment awardable for violating training conditions, committing heinous fouls or indulging in other perfidious modes of cheating, such as bribery.

The even-handedness of the Eleans as judges is perhaps best illustrated by an incident long ago when the three umpires split, two to one, in awarding victory in a close-run stade to a local over a rival from Ambracia. An appeal by the latter to the Olympic Senate was not only upheld but also the majority pair of arbiters was fined heavily for their ruling. However, I wonder whether such a fate was deserved, giving the problems associated in deciding tight finishes by very fast men over such short distances.

As I have already mentioned, eventual Olympic winners receive no reward other than a wild olive wreath, cut, with a gold-handled knife, from a sacred tree, which grows behind the main Temple of Zeus in Olympia. According to tradition, Heracles planted this tree and all victors are expected to march around the sacred grove in which it is located to the accompaniment of a flute, whilst admirers chant songs commissioned from prominent poets. Pindar earned a lot of money through such compositions.

Once winners eventually return to their homes, however, they will invariably be given something more substantial than an Olympic olive wreath, although inevitably not as prestigious. Victors are usually inundated with honours and gifts, including the likes of pensions and free meals, either for limited periods or life, for having brought glory to their cities. Annuities were actually eventually standardised in most places, with the payments based on the worthiness of the athletic achievements, and they are now usually paid monthly, whilst frequently being discretely hidden in municipal accounts amidst the budget for ‘rations’.

Parts of city walls are sometimes pulled down to permit symbolic triumphal homecomings of the victorious conquering heroes. Meanwhile, nothing is awarded for coming second, third or worse, other than derision for the disgrace of failure.

Victory alone brings glory. Participation for its own sake is not considered at all virtuous because most people afford meekness and humility no merit.

Meanwhile, success might be assisted or hampered by divine intervention but application, hard endeavour and self-reliance are regarded as the true key to glory, and a person has the right to be very proud of personal achievements and to laud them widely without casting any shadow on his own talents. Ambition, or ‘philotimia’, literally ‘love of honour’ in Greek, is always apparently meritorious. Pindar neatly summarises the situation in an ode praising a four-time winning wrestler:-

‘And now four times you came down with bodies beneath you

……..To whom the Pythian feast has given

No glad homecoming like yours.

They, when they meet their mothers,

Have no sweet laughter around them moving delight.

In back streets out of their enemies’ way

They cower; disaster has bitten them.’

As a consequence, many athletes pray before competition for ‘Either the wreath or death!’

Olympia has many splendid buildings, with the original sacred sanctuary, now known as the ‘Precinct of Pelops’, full of temples and monuments, including hundreds of large bronze and marble statues, many several times life-size, of gods, heroes or past winners. The stadium, gymnasium, palaestra, hippodrome and new Roman-style baths are situated just outside this inner revered area.

The gods share many material mortal traits, such as eating and drinking, enjoying luxuries, making love, quarrelling and becoming angry. Accordingly, one way to honour and placate the deities is to offer them gifts, such as animal sacrifices, liquid libations, the first fruits of the harvest, proportions of the spoils of war and other valuable largesse. The earthly homes of the divinities, the temples, therefore often become wealthy treasure houses, with those located in the great Hellenic sanctuaries, such as Olympia, naturally exceeding mere local shrines in this respect.

On a terrace overlooking the sacred precinct, there are actually a dozen sacred treasuries in a row, housing extravagant votive gifts and each built by a different Greek city, whose name is engraved over the entrance. The buildings are magnificently designed and decorated to illustrate the splendours of the metropolises represented, being little gems of their local architecture.

It is a measure of the importance of the Olympics that some of the communities that originally sponsored these ornate constructions, when Greece was the predominant power in the Mare Internum, were Hellenic colonies in Sicilia, Italia and even further west. Some of the items deposited locally for safekeeping are even important state documents, including peace treaties, inscribed and displayed in perpetuity on bronze or stone.

Besides the temples, shrines and treasuries, and the facilities for competitors, other buildings include the Philippeion. Alexander the Great completed this unusual round structure, which had been begun by his father, Philip II, to house statues of all members of the Macedonian dynasty.

There are also other curiosities that illustrate the wide range of benefactors Olympia has acquired over the centuries, including Roman dignitaries such as the great general, Agrippa, son-in-law of Augustus. There are, for example, the statues of King Ptolemy II of Aegyptia and his sister/wife, Queen Arsinoe, set up by their admiral, Callicrates, on a base 24 paces in length. However, I have to confess that I am often saddened, whenever I visit Olympia, by the fact that no-one has yet decided to spend some of their wealth on more utilitarian features, such as improving public amenities, especially the local sanitation arrangements.

The Olympic stadium has a capacity of up to 50,000 spectators and the banked terraces are inevitably full for all events. However, apart from a few stone seats, some of marble for notables, the viewing positions on the embankments are very rudimentary, simply entailing sitting or standing on the ground.

Local accommodation is also very basic, except for the most important guests, for whom there are palatial guesthouses, including the large ‘Leonidaion’. Sparse barracks are provided for the competitors, whilst ordinary visitors generally rely on tents or just sleep in the open air. Local taverns are very scarce, as can be expected in a venue that only becomes really popular for five days every four years. Itinerant vendors of food and drink therefore accumulate to provide the visiting hordes with sustenance.

Many other types of pedlar, such as flower-sellers, inevitably accompany the throngs of visitors, setting up booths and tents to offer their wares. Additional entrepreneurial activities taking place include fortune telling and entertainment such as acrobatics and prostitution, involving both girls and boys. Much diplomacy and personal and social business between people from different cities occurs, which, particularly in earlier more warlike times, might otherwise have been cumbersome or impossible to conduct. The fringe programme of the Olympics generally brings the likes of singers, dancers, actors and orators.

Diogenes the Cynic described such a motley assemblage at the Isthmian Games five centuries before my time:-

‘Many miserable sophists could be heard shouting and reviling each other round the Temple of Poseidon while their so-called pupils fought with one another. Writers were reading rubbish aloud. Many poets were reciting their verses to the applause of others, many conjurers were showing off their tricks, fortune-tellers theirs. There were countless advocates perverting the law and not a few pedlars hawking everything and anything.’

Policing such a place is not easy but is helped by a corps of whip-bearers to chastise disorderly visitors and traders. The latter are also subject to oversight by an honorific market commissioner, invariably a worthy Elean who has the power to inflict on-the-spot fines for any mercantile perfidy discovered. In my lifetime, one of these officials, Lucius Vetulanus Laetus, had a daughter who was the woman owner of a winning chariot.

The paucity of amenities for ordinary members of the public is compounded by unsatisfactory local sanitation, which encourages many flies during the Olympics. Even sacrifices to Zeus Apomyios, or ‘averter of flies’, cannot drive away the irritating creatures. I have heard that the regular local plagues of these pests once caused an owner to threaten a disobedient slave with a visit to Olympia during the Games as punishment. However, I suspect that this tale is apocryphal.

My near-contemporary, Epictetus the Stoic, summarises the overall situation neatly in one of his ‘Discourses’:-

‘But some cramped and hard things happen in life, and do they not happen at Olympia? Do you not swelter? Are you not cramped and crowded? Do you not bathe badly? Are you not drenched whenever it rains? Do you not have your fill of tumult and shouting and other annoyances? But I fancy that your bear and endure it all by balancing it off against the memorable character of the spectacle.’

As Epictetus suggests, the frequently unpleasant prevailing conditions and public amenities do not seem have an adverse effect on Olympic attendance and consequently Olympia, at the time of the quadrennial Games, actually becomes a remarkable place to visit. Indeed, another testament to the importance of the place is the fact that people plan for months, if not years, to come.

Of course, many visitors arrive not only to watch the Games but also to make the pilgrimage to Zeus’ most important shrine, with dignitaries, including latterly Romans, invariably bringing precious gifts for the paramount god with them. Whenever the celebrations are about to take place, there is no other regular occasion in the known world when so many people head simultaneously, by road or sea, to one particular destination.

Under Roman rule, Greek Games have not only been allowed to continue without interference, as have many other native customs, but also been positively encouraged by the Emperors, albeit under Imperial fiscal supervision. Princeps are keen on the latter precaution because they do not want such celebrations to go bankrupt in attempts to outdo others, for they know that the holders of the purple will be approached to retrieve such impecuniosity from their own coffers.

The benevolent attitude of most Emperors towards Greek Games largely stems from their governmental preference for continuing to subdue people by means of, as Juvenal puts it, ‘panem et circenses’, or ‘bread and circuses’, rather than military effort. Nevertheless, for the participants in, and huge numbers of supporters of, the events, such Imperial support is invaluable and has generally led, in turn, to unswerving loyalty from them towards the various Princeps, so proving the efficacy of the policy in the Hellenic world.

An example of this Hellenic attitude occurred when the Greek ‘Association of Touring Athletes’ sent Claudius a golden wreath to celebrate the Emperor’s conquest of Britannia. The Princeps thanked them verbally for this “symbol of loyalty to me”, as well as by more practical means, such as increasing Imperial patronage and support for various Games and their organisational infrastructures, thereby denying the saying that ‘flattery achieves nothing’.

In my lifetime, some worthies of the association, or ‘collegia’ in Latin, were even granted Roman citizenship or jobs in the capital, such as ‘President of the Imperial Baths’ or ‘Imperial Masseur’. Although these posts are primarily honorific, they are usually endowed with lucrative perquisites. However, favourably inclined Emperors might more commonly and readily be encouraged to grant members the privilege of being delegated overall Imperial oversight of the less important Games, or exemptions from municipal taxes, military service or the compulsory billeting of soldiers.

Routine activity of the association concerns ensuring decent travel arrangements, local amenities, event timetables and prizes, as well as organising appropriate sacrifices, feasts and even funerals for the membership. The latter is open to every qualified athlete, regardless of social or regional origin, and includes trainers, who invariably joined in their youth as active sportsmen. If the latter lack inherited wealth, have not saved enough prize-money when they were successful or are not sufficiently financially buttressed by municipal pensions, they invariably eventually take up coaching because the skills they teach are the only ones they possess.

Roman activities were only detrimental to the Greek Games on a few occasions. For example, the spread to the east of the effects of the Civil Wars, which occurred after the assassination of Julius Caesar, led to so much devastation and consumption of men and resources that even the Olympics had to reduce the number of events held because of resultant economic distress and competitor shortage. Remarkably, it was King Herod of Judaea, an enthusiast for Hellenic culture, who eventually came to the rescue.

Herod assumed the unprecedented post of ‘President of the Games’ and bailed the Olympics out with a huge endowment. Fortunately, the advent of Augustus as the first Emperor also then brought years of relative peace in the Hellenic world, which has lasted throughout my life and rendered meaningless the truces associated with the major athletic contests.

Many discerning Romans, particularly amongst the learned and wealthy elite, actually take great interest in such aspects of Greek culture as Games, even considering a visit to places like Olympia a must on the grand tours of their Empire many undertake to complete their education. As we shall see later in my saga, such attention often extends to Emperors.

Nevertheless, there is a distinct separation of the Empire into a western, Latin, half and an eastern, Hellenic half, which includes Sicilia. Games in the Greek style have never really caught on amongst the plebeian masses in the former, with the notable exception of chariot racing.

As I shall eventually describe, some of the other Greek events do occasionally appear amidst public entertainment in Italia, especially in Rome itself, and a later Emperor even established his own Hellenic-style celebrations. These quadrennial Capitoline Games immediately joined an enlarged periodos, which also included events at Argos, in honour of Hera, and Actium, celebrating Augustus’ victory there over Anthony and Cleopatra. However, wherever such athletic occasions take place, the competitors are invariably drawn only from the eastern provinces.

Athenodoros was once more awe-struck by the sight inside the ‘Olympieum’, or ‘Temple of Zeus Olympios’, which houses one of the wonders of the world, a massive gold and ivory statue of the paramount god, seated on his throne, created over five hundred years previously by Pheidias. This famous sculptor is also credited with the statue of the Goddess Athena, housed within the Parthenon on the Acropolis of Athens.

The Olympieum itself, which is made of local limestone and has six tall Doric columns along the front and back, and thirteen on each side, had been the work of the local architect, Libon of Elis. Although the front and back possess porches formed by walls projecting from the sides, the only entrance is located on the anterior, eastern facade, which is approached via a wide ramp. As I mentioned earlier, the pedimental sculpture overhead portrays the mythical chariot race between Pelops and Oenomaos, supposedly overseen by Zeus himself. Meanwhile, above both porches, the metopes display scenes from the Twelve Labours of Heracles, whose involvement in the alternative story about the origin of the Olympics, as well as his heroic strength, makes him a revered figure for athletes.

Athenodoros eventually knelt in the great temple before the towering statue of Zeus, to pray once more to the god to grant him success in the forthcoming event in which he would participate. At that moment, the beautiful youth truly felt that he was not in Olympia but was standing before the living deity on the top of the divinity’s faraway sacred mountain, Olympus.

The youth initially begged Zeus “May the next year forever be known as the first of the 207th Olympiad, when Athenodoros of Aigon won the stade!” Then, as he had done at this very spot, as a 12 year-old boy four years previously, he pleaded for “Either the wreath or death.”

(Aigion, Achaea, Greece, almost 5 years previously, Aug. DCCXCVII A.V.C., in the 3rd year of the reign of the Emperor Claudius [August, AD 44])

‘Nihil est incertius vulgo.’

(‘Nothing is more uncertain than the [favour of the] crowd.’)

- Cicero (‘Pro Murena’)

Athenodoros had, as usual, come first in the practice stade on the relevant open-air running track in Aigion’s principal gymnasium, despite the fact that he was the youngest of the twenty naked competitors, having just turned 12 years of age. The boy’s fellow contestants, all enthusiastic, with several very fast, had been segregated by age but some were approaching their 14th birthdays. Nevertheless, the victor had still won by at least 10 paces over the short 200-pace course and had hardly raised a sweat on his gorgeous sublimely smooth naked body, despite the hot summer sun overhead.

Athenodoros, like Axenius and me, had straight blonde hair, cut tidily in the Roman bowl style, and large sensuous blue eyes, his shadings being unusual for a Latin. Rosy lips also helped to highlight a face of unparalleled beauty, with the boy’s lightly tanned lithe body and limbs below perfectly proportioned for his age, neither too slight nor lanky, too skinny nor chubby. Nor was the 12 year-old, amazing for someone so speedy, muscle-bound in any way.

Athenodoros’ perfect 12 year-old proportions extended to his uncut genitalia, which were completely smooth, without any trace of hair anywhere. Along with the literally outstanding lustrous curvature of the boy’s bottom, his sexual organs represented a resplendent anatomical feature, which was particularly appreciated by his many admirers.

After the Roman conquest, Greeks might have lost their political autonomy but not their pride or customs. They are highly competitive and believe strongly in the concept of ‘agon’, or ‘contest’, with the ultimate goal to be the best. All aspects of life are centred round this concept, that success through indulging in pursuits entailing ‘agony’ brings great virtue. Athletics, in particular, is of prime importance to the Hellenes, with the education of boys concentrating on this subject and music, as well as academic topics such as philosophy. Learning takes place in the gymnasium as much as the academy.

Accordingly, it is considered one of the greatest honours to win a victory at the most ancient and revered sacred sporting festival, that at Olympia. However, the spread of Hellenic culture is now exemplified by the fact that, in modern times, only about one in ten of all winners come from the original heartland of Hellas, with the majority of the remainder emanating from Asia Minor. Nevertheless, an Olympic victor in my day still identifies himself with his city, and vice-versa, just as his predecessors had done eight hundred years previously.

Greek municipal affairs, now, under Roman suzerainty, largely restricted to public works, education and religious festivals, including Games, are frequently in the hands of wealthy benevolent aristocrats, who generally genuinely display much pride and concern for their own cities. As a consequence, these people frequently not only administer the facilities and activities in their metropolises but also subsidise them, with gymnasia and Games securing particular attention. In return, the patrons usually improve their political authority by securing wide popularity for their efforts in these areas.

The word ‘gymnasium’ derives from the Greek for ‘naked’, γυμνός, because athletes train and compete in the nude. This practice is a defining aspect of Hellenic culture for more prudish peoples who consider such public display shameful, such as the Romans and especially the Jews.

Greek gymnasia were originally designed to equip 18 and 19 year-old males, called ‘ephebes’, for the skills they might, from the normal warrior age of 20, require in war, such as running, wrestling, javelin throwing and archery. However, the facilities developed over subsequent centuries into more comprehensive educational establishments, where city youth, who could afford the time and cost, could exercise their minds as well as bodies. Adults were also eventually allowed to make use of the increasingly expensive amenities to help defray overheads.

A typical Greek gymnasium today is a complex of buildings and open spaces, with those elements specifically provided for sports preparation and practice often containing areas for activities not normally included in Games, such as archery. The amenities, which are often endowed by wealthy citizens, invariably include running tracks, drill spaces and wrestling grounds, or ‘palaestra’, as well as rooms for routine exercise, some with training equipment such as punch-bags of stuffed pig’s skin, and baths. Storerooms contain the oils and powders used by athletes. The facilities also possess paid instructional staff, with the overall operation supervised by a ‘gymnasiarch’. Equivalent Roman structures are more for bathing and socialising.

The biggest gymnasium in the world is in Pergamum in Asia Minor, where there are a total of six, illustrating the popularity of such facilities. The largest was built in three levels on the southeast of the local Acropolis. As well as the usual amenities, the complex includes its own temples, covered stadium, open-air hippodrome and theatre, with colonnades, altars, statuary and baths scattered throughout. Wide stairs and ramps link the different floors, and an elaborate water supply system feeds the copious ablutions and toilets, as well as many fountains.

In my era, professional coaches are, in addition to being capable of providing expert instruction in the relevant sports, expected to be a mixture of dietician, physiotherapist, hygienist and masseur. The latter mundane requirement, ‘aleiptes’ in Greek, is highlighted by the fact that the same word is commonly used for a trainer. However, perhaps strangely, gymnasia rarely seek the help of doctors when preparing athletes.

Physicians are usually only called upon to help repair serious injuries, such as broken bones. I suspect that the restriction of the role of such medical practitioners results from the desire of trainers to retain their monopoly of jobs in gymnasia.

Some trainers are appointed by rich parents or patrons to assist individual boys. Some are granted municipal funds for the coaching and competition travel expenses of promising young individuals, who might otherwise have no access to the necessary financial support. Others are employed by successful adult athletes, who can afford to pay for continued personal expert help and advice.

Trainers usually remain clothed, with the inevitable whip at the ready for encouragement or chastisement, when performing their duties in respect of their invariably naked pupils. However, the coaches will strip whenever they are required to provide practical demonstrations of the finer points of their sport. There are also many papyrus instructional scrolls to refer to for further advice.

Today, most gymnasia have lecture halls, or ‘ephebeia’, for the younger customers, where the learning atmosphere is more relaxed than in normal educational institutions. I suggest that it is no coincidence that the great philosophical schools of Athens, the Academy, Lyceum and Cynosarges, the latter providing the term ‘Cynics’ for its graduates, were all initially established in such places. The alternative reason, I suppose, is that the founders, respectively Plato, Aristotle and Diogenes, just wanted to watch naked boys and young men at play whilst they taught. Certainly, many other adult males frequent such places just for this purpose.

Gymnasia are notorious for pederasty, a word that in Greek literally means the erotic love of adult males for adolescent boys.

Today, as I narrate my saga in DCCCLIX, I possess an ancient Athenian amphora, about 650 years old, which depicts two males in a gymnasium. Both figures are painted black with purple hair. Nevertheless, despite this incongruous colour scheme, the intent of the older bearded man in respect of the adjacent beautiful youth is quite clear, as the adult’s left fingers hold the boy’s chin, whilst his right hand reaches out to fondle the inviting young genitalia. However, I have mentioned pederastic pedagogic relationships previously in my saga and so I do not need to provide much more elaboration of the practice here, especially as I shall soon intimately cite an example.

Nevertheless, I shall advise that the linkage of gymnasia with both nudity and pederasty at least bewilders many peoples, who have commonly co-populated cities of the east with the Greeks since Alexander the Great’s conquests. In fact, the Jews can perhaps be better described as being outraged. However, for the younger participants, erotic relationships often also secure patrons with wealth and important social and political connections, attributes which can prove invaluable for the boys’ futures. Such benefits cause most Hellenic parents not only to accept these liaisons as a normal part of male development but also positively to encourage the affairs.

As well as a wondrous form, Athenodoros also displayed an impeccable character. For example, regardless of his clear superiority over the rest, he invariably adopted a contemporarily highly unusual graciousness in victory, thanking and congratulating all his opponents, even the poor boy who came last, for their efforts. Despite the fact that such humble attitudes are generally considered extraordinarily peculiar, they actually made the gregarious 12 year-old exceptionally popular amongst his peers, none of whom became jealous of his abilities.

These phenomena, and the linked procurement of many Hellenic friends, was a remarkable feat in Greece for a boy of Roman extraction and testament to Athenodoros’ disarming affability. Many of his playmates were actually rather proud to count such an accomplished runner amongst their number, and were always happy to attempt to provide him with decent practice competition in order to try to push him to his limits. Everyone, not least the 12 year-old’s trainer, Sarapion, believed that they had a future Olympic champion in their midst.

The fact that no-one in Athenodoros’ near age-range had come close in practice to challenging the boy for speed, ever since he had first demonstrated his abilities to surprised gymnasium spectators when he was a mere 9 year-old, did not prevent his companions from attempting the feat. In actuality, his friends took great interest and pride in who came second, and by how much, to possibly the fastest 12 year-old in the world. The fact that the gap between the inevitable victor and the runner-ups appeared to be extending, as time passed, also never displeased anyone.

The formal practice stade races for Athenodoros’ age-group in Aigion’s gymnasium, which tried to replicate championship conditions and were held at least weekly, caused a number of spectators to gather. These watchers generally included some other athletes, of various disciplines and ages, as well as trainers, priests and philosophers, for whom the large facility was a workplace. However, the biggest grouping comprised many of the regular pederasts who frequented the place to do nothing more than look at nude boys.

Some of the more influential amongst the pederasts were already in recognised pedagogic associations with young athletes, whilst others were currently seeking to secure such relationships. However, most had little chance of forging such liaisons because of their lack of wealth and social standing.

This category of boy admirer either hoped, usually forlornly, that their other charms might attract young athletes to them or were present only for the delicious sights to be observed. Mental remembrance of this probably later fuelled their imaginations sufficiently for their own hands to provide, in some quiet place, pleasurable masturbatory release from sexual torment.

The gymnasium staff tolerated such common voyeurs, usually in return for small regular bribes, as long as the men presented themselves with clean decency and were discreet and well behaved. Anyone caught being a nuisance, perhaps by fruitlessly, but irritatingly for too long, trying to woo boys, or caught masturbating on the premises whilst viewing some of the nice scenes, were expelled, either for a limited period or permanently, depending on the frequency and nature of the offence. Those who really overstepped the mark, for example by sexually assaulting a youngster, were usually severely beaten before being handed over to the municipal authorities for formal punishment. However, in Aigion, such misdemeanours are fortunately very rare, possibly because the usual penance is castration.

It was universally recognised in Aigion’s gymnasium that the immense popularity for spectators of the weekly practice race, in which Athenodoros was involved, was not just down to the inevitable victor’s remarkable running abilities, or the prettiness of many of his boy rivals. The belief was confirmed in most minds by the fact that, whenever the 12 year-old indulged in more ordinary training, there would also invariably be a large crowd of the usual voyeurs watching.

Of course, the reason why many wanted to observe the naked Athenodoros at play was blatantly obvious. The 12 year-old was considered by many, not only members of the lecherous viewing assemblage, as being the most beautiful boy in the city, if not the whole of Greece. He even attracted many lustful souls who preferred older youths but wished to observe how the slow, but inexorable, blossoming of the young athlete’s delectable body into a living Adonis was progressing.

Athenodoros had already been the subject of many approaches, both formal and informal, some serious, some cheeky, some highly impertinent, to enter into relationships with senior males, including a few not much older than himself. However, pedagogic associations involving 12 year-olds are generally frowned upon in the Hellenic world because such boys are considered too immature, with 14 usually considered to be the minimum acceptable age.

A lot of Sarapion’s time was spent discouraging, and protecting his beautiful young charge from, such approaches. In doing so, the trainer was always very polite with men of influence, suggesting that they ask again in a couple of years, recognising that, by then, Athenodoros might welcome a pedagogue, as many boys had done previously, not least the coach himself when he was young.

Sarapion gave what he considered to be frivolous or sexually opportunistic approaches short shift. In such instances, the trainer adopted varying tactics, depending upon the circumstances and the lecher concerned. Usually, the threat of a punch in the nose or temporary or permanent expulsion from the gymnasium worked. However, on one occasion, when a clearly infatuated and apparently sexually desperate and dangerous man had been persistent, despite perpetual banishment from the premises, and the coach worried about Athenodoros being attacked and raped outside, he had felt compelled to waylay the pest in a back alley. The person concerned left Aigion soon afterwards, physically unharmed but mentally badly shaken and never to return.

Athenodoros was no fool and was aware that he had admirers, who were not just fans of his racing ability. In fact, the situation, which affected all other pretty boy users of the gymnasium to varying degrees, was a regular topic of conversation between him and his many friends.

News would be shared amongst the youngsters about the identity and actions of their latest admirers, as well as about any successes some of the lechers might have achieved. The affairs and relationships of slightly older boys, who were mature enough to have acquired pedagogues, were also frequent popular topics for furtive chat, which was often interspersed with frequent giggling.

Most boys were actually very flattered and proud to be the centre of such adult attention and often lingered over their physical preparations before presenting themselves naked in the gymnasium. To tease the spectators, some youngsters even went out of their way to try to adopt alluring poses when exercising. However, such actions occasionally went too far and the resultant adult libidinous looks noticed and ribald comments overheard caused bodily tingling all over, and consequent embarrassing erections to form on, beautiful young bodies.

Athenodoros demurred from teasing his many admirers and also tried his best not to let their presence affect his own exercises or running. Nevertheless, the boy’s smooth slim cock sometimes reacted like those of his friends when he noticed how many sets of eyes were peering at every facet of his delectable naked form, amidst much appreciative whispering between the watchers. However, being an apparently commonly shared embarrassment, the 12 year-old eventually became accustomed to the previously abashing phenomenon of occasional penile erection. The youngster also appreciated that this accomplishment might be particularly useful, for victory still to be achieved, if the genital display was ever repeated in public competition in front of thousands of onlookers.

On his part, Sarapion had seen such common public shows of athletic virility many times, not least on his own body, even as an adult, and so ignored the increasingly more frequent exhibition of penile hardness on his young charge. However, the trainer knew that his protective duties would soon become even more onerous, once the beautiful boy’s immaculate naked form eventually entered the formal competitions with multitudes of spectators present. Nevertheless, the coach eventually coped very well and conscientiously with these additional arduous tasks, for which he employed similar techniques to those used at the gymnasium and occasionally recruited the wondrous youngster’s proud father and other close kinsmen to assist.

Sarapion’s efforts were undoubtedly stimulated by his own deep proud caring love for Athenodoros, which was purely platonic because the trainer was intensely heterosexual. The coach’s reliable efficiency was also unrecognisable from some of the irresponsible attitudes the 29 year-old man had once displayed in his own life.

Sarapion had become Athenodoros’ trainer when the boy was 11 and had already been exhibiting his athletic promise for a couple of years. Up to then, the youngster had had to rely on the communal coaches provided at the gymnasium because his parents, of whom he was the only child, could just about afford their son’s membership of the facility but not the resources to recruit a personal instructor.

The gymnasium staff had done their best, within their knowledge and ability, to assist the development of the young protégé, recognising talent that could bring them, their facility and their city future glory. However, although all were former competitive athletes, none had achieved great distinction in contests, or had subsequently acquired the coaching skills necessary to rear top champions. Time constraints also meant that there were severe limits to the personal tuition they could afford Athenodoros.

Eventually, when Athenodoros’ talent became irrefutable, the gymnasiarch, with the permission of the boy’s parents, applied for a municipal grant so that a full-time trainer could be provided. The gymnasium manager did not have anyone particularly in mind to be the appointee should his bid be successful, instead intending to ask the Association of Touring Athletes for suggestions. However, when the city kindly approved the benefaction, Sarapion, previously unknown in Aigion for athletic knowledge or prowess, unexpectedly applied for the job.

Sarapion, who was, like Athenodoros, of Roman lineage, had actually won the adult Olympic stade title only 7 years previously, at the 204th Olympiad, whilst a 22 year-old representing his home city of Alexandria in Aegyptia. Unfortunately, the success and subsequent adulation had gone to the young man’s head.

In Alexandria, Sarapion had been feted widely and had readily abandoned himself wantonly to the copious celebrations, especially the banquets, many ribald, offered over a long time by fawning wealthy hosts. Consequently, he had acquired a particular avaricious taste for wine and women, on which he concentrated at the expense of furthering his athletic career, believing that he would never have to race again because of the munificent gifts and municipal pension he had been awarded.

Over just a few years, Sarapion changed from being the fastest man in the world, renowned for his Olympic achievement, to being an alcoholic rake, notorious for drunken womanising and often hardly capable of standing let alone running. His personal trainer, now basically unemployed, along with the many good friends he had accumulated before he became famous, eventually abandoned him in despair, their desperate caring advice having fallen on deaf ears.

Sarapion instead acquired a large band of sycophants, with similar tastes in wine and women and who had flocked to him to sponge on his own frequent generous hospitality. However, the young champion’s excesses eventually caught up on him. After his true friends had disappeared from his life, social invitations from decent people and associated gifts also dried up, as did his ready cash, forcing him to mortgage his municipal pension to maintain his dissolute lifestyle.

Sarapion eventually became so desperate for money that he even contemplated a return to athletics. However, the idea was thwarted as a result of a fight with an aggrieved husband, whose wife the young champion had seduced, although his almost permanent drunkenness had been so great that he could not recall bedding the woman.

If sober and in his original physical state, Sarapion, previously renowned for toughness, would undoubtedly have thrashed his opponent in the resultant fight. However, on this occasion, he was severely battered, with none of his sycophants coming to his aid, and, as a result of a stumble during the brief conflict, left with a permanent limp. The possibility of a return to athletic competition was lost forever.

Finally bankrupt, and with the sycophants deserting him for fresh pastures, Sarapion felt obliged to flee his home city, with a train of creditors and cuckolded husbands in his wake. The now 28 year-old did so by enlisting anonymously as a merchant seaman. His subterfuge was helped by the fact that no-one could possibly believe that such a dishevelled, unfit, disabled soak of a man, who looked much older than his actual age, could possibly have been the Olympic stade champion of just six years earlier.

Sarapion ended up in Aigion by accident. The city happened to be the place where the captain of his latest ship had lost patience with a sailor who always seemed to be drunk and of little use. He was found filthy, unconscious and penniless in a harbour gutter by Athenodoros’ father, who was a port official.

Despite the fact that such human detritus is common throughout the Empire, something induced Athenodoros’ invariably compassionate father to take pity on the apparent vagrant. He eventually took Sarapion to his humble home. It was a decision that neither would ever regret.

For Sarapion, his descent into the gutter and the action of Athenodoros’ father were cathartic experiences. Whilst maintaining his anonymity, he decided that he had to pick himself up by sobering up and securing a worthwhile occupation. With the help of his kind rescuer and the resolution that had made him an Olympic champion in the first place, he managed to achieve his aims.

Athenodoros’ father found Sarapion lodgings and a job as a dock stevedore. For his part, the young champion no longer chased wine or women and as a result, within a few months, was beginning to look his true self again.

Sarapion and Athenodoros’ father also became close friends, with the former a regular guest at the latter’s small but neat domus. Here, the still anonymous Olympic champion was to meet the delightful son of the house, and learn about the boy’s athletic prowess.

Athenodoros knew about Sarapion’s coaching capabilities, if not their background, long before anyone else. The young stevedore now furtively gave him private athletic tuition, having sworn the boy to secrecy, whilst explaining the need for such concealment as not wanting, for reasons of time, others to approach him for similar help.

Athenodoros was perceptive enough to realise that how and what he was now being taught was far superior to previous instruction. The boy’s belief was proved to his own satisfaction by an immediate substantial improvement in his already impressive running performances.

Athenodoros was therefore the only person not surprised when Sarapion revealed his true identity to apply for the job as the boy’s personal trainer, once the municipal authorities of Aigion had agreed to provide the relevant funds. Securing a former Olympic stade champion, especially one of such recent pedigree, for the position would normally be well beyond the budget kindly proffered, and so the application was eagerly accepted without challenge.

Over the subsequent year, Sarapion expertly, without spoiling Athenodoros’ natural attributes, helped the boy to refine certain aspects of his running technique, especially how to start, stride, use his arms and finish to maximum effect. The sage instruction also included better preliminary exercises, warming up and down routines, massaging methods and lifestyle regimes. What the Alexandrian eventually brought to his charming young charge’s preparations and performances distinguished him from everyday trainers and was the type of coaching that, in turn, enables true champions to be separated from lesser mortals at the very top level of any sport.

As the naked Athenodoros emerged from the throng of fellow competitors, to be towelled by a smiling Sarapion, the boy’s trainer announced “Well, you’re as ready as you’ll ever be to participate in your first public competition!”

Sarapion was to be proved correct when, one week later in Aigion’s own stadium, during the city’s annual Games and before a cheering crowd of about 30,000, the naked Athenodoros romped home in the stade race for boys aged 12 to 14. Again, he was the youngest competitor but this had not prevented him from achieving victory by eight paces from his nearest challenger, who was over 2 years older.

Athenodoros’ achievement was against boys from not only Aigion but also much of Greece, all keen to secure the glory of the local wreath, as well as the prize of 50 large jars, or ‘amphoras’, of olive oil. The victor’s ecstatically happy and generous father was pleased to award 20 of the latter to the still determinedly teetotal Sarapion, in thanks for the trainer’s help in his son’s success.

Meanwhile, the delighted municipal authorities of Aigion were more than content, on this evidence, not only to extend the grant afforded to Athenodoros for a personal trainer but also now to provide travelling expenses so that the boy could compete in the imminent Games of other nearby cities. They were to be rewarded, in the space of just a month, by wreaths for success in age-segregated stade races in the north Peloponnese coastal communities of Aegae, Aegira, Helice, Panormus, Rhypes and, most importantly, Patrae.

Aigion’s young protégé had achieved these great victories with ease, and whilst remaining unbeaten in all the races he entered. Accordingly, the municipal authorities of Athenodoros’ home city decided on the bold step, despite the boy’s tender years, of terminating his further participation in such minor Games so that the 12 year-old could embark upon the 10 months of compulsory preliminary training required for entry into the following year’s Olympics.

The Olympic junior stade event is not subject to age segregation and so Athenodoros would be competing against boys up to and including 17 year-olds, all amongst the known world’s very best young sprinters. Sarapion and the 12 year-old’s father were therefore unhappy at the proposal of Aigion’s city elders, not wanting their young athlete exposed to such stiff competition, which surely could only bring humiliation and defeat, if the youngster even qualified after the initial month-long scrutiny of contenders by the Hellanodikai.

Sarapion and Athenodoros’ father thought that the whole experience might be psychologically scarring for the boy, and so jeopardising to his future career. However, their earnestly argued objections were overruled by Aigion’s municipal authorities, who were seemingly blinded to reality because of the possibility of rare Olympic glory for their city. The stance of the civic leaders had to be respected because they controlled the boy’s developmental purse-strings, which now included payment for an educational tutor, to enable the 12 year-old’s intelligent mind to be developed as well as his lovely body.

Sarapion and Athenodoros’ father finally decided to make best use they could of the awkward situation. They prepared the boy for probable opprobrious elimination at the preliminary sifting stage of the Olympics by suggesting to the 12 year-old that the whole embarrassing experience should stand him in good stead for his next more realistic attempt at the junior title in another four years. They also continued his physical conditioning in case, by some miracle, he actually survived the initial culling by the judges and was chosen as one of the select few to race.

Athenodoros himself was less worried about the pitfalls of seeking to compete at the next Olympics. The boy was not vain enough to believe that he could win, or that he would even be selected to race, but, unusually for the era, he was also not too proud to take rejection or defeat too badly.

In truth, Athenodoros was really looking forward to experiencing his first Olympics.

(Olympia, Elis, Greece, 11 months later, Iul. DCCXCVIII A.V.C., in the 4th year of the reign of the Emperor Claudius [July, AD 45])

‘….nor any contest than the Olympian greater to sing.’

- Pindar

The long procession arrived in Olympia from Elis. Vast cheering crowds, assembled from all over the Greek world to watch the 206th Olympics, greeted the long colourful parade of athletes, attired in light summer tunics, and trainers, closest supporters, usually family members, and judges, dressed in more copious formal garb.

The procession eventually arrived at the Bouleuterion, the building where the Olympic Senate meets and official documents are stored and where, in an open space within the complex, stands the altar of Zeus Horkeios. Here, the athletes and their entourages take the sacred oath, swearing to respect the rules and compete with integrity.

The altar of Zeus Horkios, not the Temple of Zeus Olympios, is used for this ritual because the former shrine is more appropriate. ‘Horkai’ in Greek means ‘oaths’, and the most powerful gods, who have accumulated various functions, often bear such suffix epithets to distinguish their various roles, as well as the different sanctuaries they possess in the same environs in order to conduct the relevant diverse sacred business.

The swearing ceremony is very solemn, as befits a sacred rite dedicating, by swearing to the almighty Zeus, the athletes, trainers and any accompanying kinsmen to participate fairly and honourably. The paramount god is a terrible, avenging deity when perjury is concerned. He has lightening at his disposal to punish cheats, although, as I have already mentioned, those caught are more often fined, expelled or flogged.

The receipts from financial penalties actually go towards the erection of more statues of Zeus, in order to appease his anger and act as permanent reminders to potential future malefactors of the possible consequences of perfidy. These structures all have inscribed critical couplets. For example, one, presumably built from fines levied for attempted bribery, refers to its existence as being 'To show that you win at Olympia with the speed of your feet and the strength of your body, not with money!’

Amongst the oath-takers today was 12 year-old Athenodoros. Other contestants present included 16 year old Melankomas of Caria and 17 year-old Kallikles of Sidon.

Athenodoros was awe-struck at not only making his first visit to the hallowed splendours of Olympia but also doing so in such a ceremonial manner, as an actual chosen competitor. The Hellanodikai had, after the compulsory month of preliminary training in Elis, miraculously selected the 12 year-old to race.

The boy from Aigion had been, in these Games, the only 12 year-old to have the temerity to seek to contest the Olympic junior stade, with the next youngest being a 15 year-old and he had not survived the cull. As a result, Athenodoros would be competing against no-one younger than 16, with most 17, and his opponents were the fastest young sprinters in the Hellenic world.

Despite his surprising survival to the actual competition stage, Athenodoros was not naïve enough to believe that he a chance of winning. However, the 12 year-old, along with his trainer and father, had been very proud that he had somehow proved to the Hellanodikai that he was worthy of participating in the event at the expense of older boys, all excellent runners. In return for the judges’ brave but controversial decision, the young Aigionian was also determined to try his best not to embarrass everyone by coming last in the race.

In fact, the Hellanodikai had based their ruling on a belief, resulting from their careful observations, that Athenodoros, despite his tender years, was indeed amongst the fastest of the many who wanted to compete in the junior stade. The chief arbiters were aware of the ridicule that might befall them if the 12 year-old proved otherwise but, having acquired their view, they could not honourably disregard their judgement, for to do so would be to besmirch Zeus. They had also not been influenced by the fact that the boy was of Latin rather than Hellenic extraction.

Ever since the Roman conquest, Latins capable of proving Greek residence and linguistic ability, as well as proper respect for the native culture and the gods of Olympus, had been allowed to compete. Qualification difficulties over tracing the necessary pure national bloodline had been conveniently overcome by accepting the idea that the conquering race was actually Hellenic in origin, being descended from Aeneas.

The decision of the Hellanodikai over Athenodoros was further testimony to the judges’ impartiality, which was famed for ensuring that resolutions were based purely on the perceived facts. Nevertheless, the beautiful modest boy from Aigion was still fearful that the arbiters might have made a mistake and he would ultimately let them down.

After the formal entry ceremonials had concluded, Sarapion, who knew the environs well from his previous visits, took Athenodoros on a sightseeing tour of Olympia. The pair was accompanied by the boy’s father and other close kinsmen, who had come to support and protect the 12 year-old. Many other people from Aigion had also recently arrived for the great Games, ready to cheer on their young hero in the junior stade, which would take place in two days, as well as others from their city who were competing in other events.

As the party went on their walking tour, Sarapion was greeted by a number of his own past acquaintances, who knew him from Alexandria or his own days as a champion athlete on the Games circuit. The trainer was apparently unfazed by these meetings and agreed to look up many of his old friends during his stay locally, when he had more time to discuss the past and what he was now doing in Olympia.

Sarapion deliberately left one particular statue as his last port of call on the sightseeing tour. Athenodoros, in particular, gazed in amazement at the statue of a lovely naked boy. The child’s name was Damiscus, and he had won the junior sprint as a 12 year-old over 400 years previously. The same-aged lad from Aigion wondered how the young champion of long ago had managed such a miraculous feat.

Athenodoros was aware that the Greek world was full of similar statues, as well as many written odes, including much of the output of the poet Pindar, in praise of both boy and adult victors. However, he knew no other monument that involved someone so young, especially in such an honoured location. Naturally, he would have liked to emulate the long-dead hero in terms of securing not only victory but also similar remembrance in stone and verse. However, the 12 year-old was a realist and knew that, on this occasion, he stood no chance at all.

Athenodoros was still of this opinion, as he mixed watching the next exhilarating day of the Olympics, dominated by the horse and pentathlon events, with final training under the careful protective eye of Saparion and his father and kinsmen. The latter were still working mightily, and so far successfully, to keep greedily libidinous hands off their gorgeous young charge. However, the adults were to let their watchful guard slip on the night before the junior stade.

Athenodoros’ father and kinsmen had gone off to enjoy the crowded and varied nightlife of Olympia, which exists only at the time of the Games, before retiring to sleep in their tents. Additionally, the unselfish boy had persuaded an originally reluctant Sarapion to meet up with some of his old acquaintances. The trainer eventually departed for his reunions after giving his young charge the customary massage, which invariably concluded the 12 year-old’s evening bathing session and which today was later than usual because of extended last-day training.

Consequently, Athenodoros was currently alone in the relative quiet of the Roman-style baths, provided in the otherwise very basic surroundings of the barracks set aside for the athletes and trainers. The naked boy had decided to try to relax before his big day by lingering in the warmth of one of the caldaria.

Whilst Athenodoros did so, he remembered that the ancient barracks in which he and Sarapion had been accommodated had been built in a Spartan style. Given the very sparse amenities, improved only by the fairly recent addition of the Roman baths, the boy thanked the gods that he had not been reared in the Lacedaemonian manner. However, the 12 year-old’s reverie on ancient Greek lifestyles was brought to an end by the unexpected arrival of three clothed older rivals for the junior stade.

Athenodoros recognised the three 17 year-olds from sharing practice and accommodation facilities with them over the last month, during the compulsory preliminary training in the city of Elis. However, the boy wondered why they were walking into the steamy caldarium still attired. The 12 year-old was soon to find out.

“Hello, Aigionian,” the rather ugly youth, adult-like in size and appearance, and known to Athenodoros as Kallikles of Sidon, greeted with a smirk, “I’ve be meaning to catch you on your own since we arrived in Olympia. You see, I intend to win tomorrow’s race, with a little quiet assistance from some close acquaintances, and I wanted to ask you whether you too would like to be counted amongst my friends.” The 17 year-old sneered at his two similarly aged companions as he conveyed these words.

Kallikles’ apparent question puzzled Athenodoros, who therefore enquired “What do you mean?” The boy’s query was then initially answered by the casting of a small cloth purse to the damp floor, close to the 12 year-old’s bare feet.

An intrigued Athenodoros leant over and picked up the little bag, before looking once more at Kallikles. “It’s alright,” the smirking 17 year-old declared, “you can open it.” The curious 12 year-old therefore did so and spied several very valuable gold coins inside.

“You stand no chance tomorrow anyway,” Kallikles advised by way of explanation, “but I’d like to win comfortably and so the coins are compensation for the lack of effort I expect to see on your part.” The horrified Athenodoros immediately recognised that the 17 year-old was trying to bribe him to under-perform and instantly threw the bag of money back onto the floor, this time near the Sidonian’s feet.

“I’ll never disgrace myself by doing such a base deed,” Athenodoros replied with honest loud conviction, “so please go and never talk to me again!” However, the boy’s negative response and rebuke did not appear to disturb Kallikles one iota. The still-smirking 17 year-old instead responded “I thought that you might refuse because, alas, you look the honest type. However, good conspirators always have alternative plans, just in case the first goes awry.” The youth, with his sneer broadening, then ordered his similarly sized and strong companions to “Grab the brat!”

The surprise induced by this command was such that the normally fast reactions of Athenodoros were, on this occasion, too slow to prevent his naked body from quickly falling into the firm strong clutches of Kallikles’ two clothed companions. It was then obvious to all present that, compared to the 17 year-olds, the 12 year-old looked very diminutive.

Athenodoros’ desperate struggles were useless against the tight grip in which he was held, whilst Kallikles approached menacingly to stand before the vulnerable naked boy. “Plan two,” the 17 year-old advised the appalled 12 year-old, “involves an unfortunate last-minute injury to the groin of the youngest competitor in tomorrow’s junior stade!”

Kallikles’ statement was accompanied by the first of several vicious kicks he intended to inflict on Athenodoros’ conveniently exposed completely smooth genitalia. The 17 year-old was subsequently unconcerned about his young nude victim’s reaction, an initial quiet, as breath was expelled in an excruciating manner from the 12 year-old’s beautiful body, before sufficient air was retrieved for a loud anguished scream to be emitted. After all, as far as the Sidonian was concerned, he had timed his move well, for when the surrounding facility was devoid of other patrons.

Athenodoros’ legs had raised themselves off the ground, as his body had attempted to double up in agony because of the first well-aimed kick. However, Kallikles’ companions retained the distraught boy’s bare form in an uncompromising upright position. The assailant therefore only had to wait patiently for gravity and pain to induce weariness so that the genital target was nicely revealed once more.

A further well-directed, excruciating strike from Kallikles’ foot then caused another shriek to emerge from the now sobbing Athenodoros’ rosy lips and resound round the large caldarium. However, the 12 year-old’s distressed mind still somehow managed sufficient lucidity to enable him simultaneously to beg the gods on Olympus to deliver him from this grievous torment, which he believed would end up emasculating him.

Nevertheless, despite this entreaty towards Olympus, a third bruising kick in the balls, the most painful of all, was delivered soon afterwards.

(To be continued in chapter XXXI - ‘Wreaths’)